


Punishment

by weepingwillow



Series: Merlin Memory Month Fics [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: All the blushes, I swear I don't just write porn honest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-28 00:19:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10819770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weepingwillow/pseuds/weepingwillow
Summary: Before Merlin could quite work out what was happening, Arthur had him pinned up against the wall by his throat. The rough stone dug into his shoulderblades, and Arthur's grip was so tight it would bruise.





	Punishment

“Merlin!”

 

Sometimes he did it on purpose. It was just so amusing to see Arthur lose his temper, his face turn red. When dodging projectile pears and apples, Merlin couldn't help but laugh.

 

But this time he'd gone further than ever. Perhaps too far. It was supposed to have just been a practical joke, but Merlin hadn't thought of the consequences and-

 

“Mer _ lin! _ ”

 

He sighed. He knew he should probably come out of his hiding place, curled up in a dark alcove behind a tapestry, and face Arthur's rage before it ramped up too high. The idea filled him with dread, but he'd just have to get on with it. Like pulling out a splinter, get it over with as fast as possible.

 

He heard Arthur pacing past his hiding place. Anxious that Arthur shouldn't find out where he'd been, Merlin waited for him to walk a little further, then slipped out behind him.

 

“You were calling for me, sire?”

 

Arthur spun round on the ball of his foot and headed straight towards him, pure anger in his eyes. In hindsight, the decision to just appear behind Arthur was not the best he could have made.

 

Before Merlin could quite work out what was happening, Arthur had him pinned up against the wall by his throat. The rough stone dug into his shoulderblades, and Arthur's grip was so tight it would bruise.

 

“Where have all my weapons gone, Merlin?” Arthur hissed. Merlin said nothing. He couldn't exactly explain that the contents of the armoury was still there, just invisible, without revealing one major punishable-by-death secret. He'd take the inevitable bodily harm or humiliation above death, any day. And the weapons would ‘come back’ soon, when the spell wore off in the evening.

 

Besides, even if he could explain, he wasn't sure he'd have the breath to. There was the very real constriction of his windpipe to consider, and besides that the extremely close proximity of Arthur Pendragon, in all his golden, chiseled glory. Merlin could smell the leather and the sweat on him. That, and the way Arthur’s arm pressed all the way down his chest, was doing strange things to his ability to think.

 

“I know it was you, Merlin,” Arthur growled, “You were seen, coming out of the armoury. Do you have anything at all to say for yourself?”

 

They were silent and still there for a moment. Merlin found he couldn't quite process Arthur's words as quickly as he should. He wondered if it was something to do with the lack of air.

 

“I can't-”

 

“Oh!” Arthur said, immediately releasing his grip.

 

“Don't-” Merlin started, before he could catch what he was saying. He hated the loss of Arthur's touch almost before it was gone and knew that he shouldn't. And at the same time he watched Arthur, whose eyes were narrowing. Merlin knew that he'd noticed.

 

“You like that, don't you?” Arthur said. His voice was slow, like he was puzzling it out. He started to smile, and Merlin couldn't work out if it was in amusement or agreement. With a heartbeat to decide, Merlin took the leap to trust that Arthur wouldn't make fun of him - at least, not any more.

 

He bit his lip and nodded.

 

Arthur's grip tightened at the first movement of his head. And Merlin couldn't quite quantify what it did to him but he went limp and boneless in Arthur's arms. Without the danger, now, he could enjoy the sensations - the firmness of Arthur's arm, the warmth of their bodies close together, the way his breath rasped through his restricted throat. He reached out for Arthur's shoulders and grabbed on. Merlin could feel the power of them beneath his fingers.

 

Arthur grinned; a feral, possessive thing, and he pushed Merlin up the wall, onto his tiptoes. It made Merlin grip onto his shoulders even harder, the pressure firmer, his body held in Arthur's total control.

 

He didn't notice at first, but the movement had allowed Arthur to move in closer, and now he leant towards Merlin slowly. Merlin could feel the heat of his body before it touched. His eyes locked onto Arthur's lips, caught by the chapped curve of them, wondering what they would feel like on skin. He could feel his breath coming faster now as all his sense filled with Arthur and, all control taken from him now, he allowed himself to want. But when Arthur's closeness brought his thigh in to touch the line of Merlin's hardening dick, the shock of it let the fear step back in and Merlin closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to watch Arthur react, certain that he'd see disgust or pity in his eyes.

 

The next thing he felt was warmth against his lips. A kiss, he thought, but it couldn't be, he couldn't allow himself to hope. He opened his eyes to check, to the view of Arthur's pretty blonde eyelashes and the dark shadows of them over his cheeks. He let out a sound - a hum of surprise, of approval, and then Arthur was kissing him in earnest, like he'd needed permission. Arthur's mouth was warm, his tongue confident as it followed the shape of Merlin's lips, pressed back against his tongue, fit large in his mouth like he wanted to possess. He loosened his grip on Merlin's neck while they kissed but then, even as Arthur was pulling away, Merlin's lower lip between his teeth, he pressed right back in again. It left Merlin groaning, his dick stiffening faster than he knew possible, his lungs crying out for air.

 

“Not a sound,” Arthur told him, and Merlin nodded, to be rewarded with Arthur's thigh rubbing against his erection, sending a shock of pleasure up through his stomach. His dick was trapped uncomfortably in his trews, but  _ oh _ did it feel good to have it touched regardless. The discomfort came a moment later, and with it still the need for more. He let his head tip back against the wall, neck pressing into Arthur's hand, biting his lip red with the effort not to talk.

 

“Merlin,” Arthur groaned, “The way you look.” He stepped back, and Merlin near gasped at the loss of Arthur's warmth against his dick. Arthur looked just as lost as he did, with pupils blown, lips kissed red, and his clothes in disarray from pressing up against Merlin. Merlin thought he could look at that for hours.

 

“Open your laces,” Arthur said. The words sent naked want to Merlin's stomach, and he fumbled and tugged but he got them loose enough for his dick to slide free.

 

“Touch yourself,” Arthur said, and Merlin almost did groan there, but the tight grip on his throat reminded him not to. He used both hands, one on his balls, the other curled around his shaft, taking his time. Arthur watched for a while, transfixed, and then he looked up to Merlin's eyes to give him his next instruction.

 

“Do that to me.”

 

Arthur's groin had been hidden by his long shirt, but when Merlin lifted the cloth he could see that Arthur was just as affected as him. There was the outline of his dick - wide, he could see - and a damp area near the head. Merlin grinned, and with a little surer fingers he opened Arthur's laces and eased him out. Arthur gasped, and Merlin gave him no respite, moving his hands until Arthur was moaning with each touch, his thumb moving on Merlin's neck in time with the rhythm. As Arthur's voice became more fraught Merlin sped his hands, until Arthur was gasping and looked ready to come. Arthur made no signal that Merlin was to wait, so Merlin twisted his wrist, rocked his thumb against the head, until Arthur's sharp moans became a cry and there was mess all over Merlin's shirt. As Arthur gasped his recovery, Merlin reached for himself.

 

“Don't you dare,” Arthur said. He caught Merlin by the wrists and dragged him away from the wall. Merlin stumbled, but followed as Arthur led him down the corridor and into his own rooms.

 

“You haven't been properly punished yet,” Arthur told him, hauling Merlin towards a chair, “Strip.”

 

Merlin struggled with his clothes, so desperate for release now that he'd watched Arthur have his, but he managed to get naked without quite falling over. Arthur stood close to him. Merlin was pleased to see that his dick was showing interest again just from looking.

 

Arthur paced over to a small wooden chair and dragged it into the centre of the room.

 

“Sit,” he told Merlin, and he maneuvered him to sit facing the back of the chair, hands on the top wooden bar of the back. Behind him he heard Arthur searching for something, and his dick throbbed in anticipation.

 

“Don't move,” Arthur told him, seconds before the length of something long and narrow collided with the upper half of his arse. Merlin cried out at the sting, and received another blow in punishment. A warm ache spread out across his skin and deep into his body.

 

“Silent,” Arthur reminded him, and Merlin nodded his acknowledgement. When the next blow came, and the ones that rained down after that, he bit his lip close to bleeding to stay quiet. Arthur stood to one side, so he could see both the pink bruises on Merlin's arse and the way his dick bobbed and swelled with each touch of the cane.

 

After what felt like an age, the pain ended, and Merlin looked up excitedly, certain that would mean that Arthur would let him come. He found himself looking, again, at Arthur's very interested dick.

 

“I want you to suck me,” Arthur said. Getting the taste of Arthur's dick in his mouth was the second best thing that could happen, so Merlin licked his lips in anticipation and leant forward to press a kiss to the velvet skin of the head. At that, Arthur moved forward, and Merlin could start to take it in his mouth, hands still holding onto the chair. He moved shallowly to begin with, working the head with his tongue before starting to take it further down his throat. Arthur moaned quietly, so Merlin leant in further, eager to please Arthur.

 

As soon as Merlin's lips reached the base of his dick, Arthur's hand came up into Merlin's hair. He rocked his hips a little, testing, and when Merlin put up no objection, even altering the angle of his head a little to help, Arthur started to fuck in earnest. The movements were small at first, but in moments he'd worked himself up to harder thrusts, until Merlin was choking on his dick, struggling to breathe around the girth of it. All Merlin could think about, let alone how to breathe, or whether he'd be able to speak afterwards, was how good it felt.

 

When Arthur came down his throat, in hot bursts so deep inside Merlin that it felt a part of him, Merlin was so desperate to touch he felt he could burst. In an instant Arthur pulled out and gathered Merlin upright, kicking the chair from out between them.

 

“Now,” Arthur said, wrapping sword-callused fingers tight around Merlin's dick, “Now you can come.” Embarrassingly quickly, Merlin thrusted into the rough circle of Arthur's hand and came so hard that without help from Arthur his knees would have given way.

 

It was later, both of them naked and sweaty under Arthur's blankets and furs, that the message came. The weapons in the armoury had mysteriously reappeared.

 

“Merlin,” Arthur said, confused, “Why didn't you try to correct me? You can't have taken the weapons because you can't have returned them, you've been right here for hours.” Rather than explain to Arthur, Merlin decided to skirt the question.

  
“I liked where you were going with the punishment,” he teased, and underneath all those sheets and those furs his long fingers slid down Arthur's stomach and curled between his legs. Arthur hit his head against the bedframe in his hurry to dismiss the knight, and Merlin couldn't have been more pleased. He'd have to enrage Arthur more often, he thought.


End file.
